


Bracer

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Arranged Marriage, Courtship, F/F, F/M, Forced Prostitution, M/M, Minor Character Death, Misogyny, Multi, Non-Sexual Slavery, Omega Verse, Patriarchy, Politics, Re-write, Russian Mafia, Sexual Slavery, bride prices for omegas, high society - Freeform, roman influence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 12:47:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5929036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"'Ah, that's Katya for you. Ever since she married her little Polish bride, she can't stand to even hear of the business.' Braginski lifted his glass of wine to his mouth before he spoke again. 'Natasha, however, is wonderful. She just came back from finishing school, and it's already as though someone has given my father back that... 'spark' she's been missing.'</p>
<p>'How old is Natalia now? She was only seven, the last time I saw her.' His father asked.</p>
<p>'She just turned fourteen.' Braginski smiled, the way Alfred's father smiled, as if he could see the stacks of bills he would trade his little sister for. Alfred wondered if that was why Braginski was so comfortable; perhaps any money he spent on Alfred would come right back into his pocket."</p>
<p>(A re-write of this fic: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1906662)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bracer

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Porcelain Skies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1906662) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 



> Okay, to start off, this fic is a re-write. A couple years ago, I started writing this fic, and, as I am wont to do, I changed fandoms and abandoned it. I never thought I would come back to it, but here I am. 
> 
> I will try to update every week, but posting on time isn't one of my strong suits.

Bracer: A common slang term for a single alpha. Often used as a slur, to denote criminal activity or corrupt courtship dealings. (E.g. This bracer was courting my sister, she tried to bribe my uncle for information about her.)

Doll: A common slang term for prostitute. The term is thought to have been derived from the distinctive makeup and costuming of ovarian prostitutes. Often Doll refers to a street prostitute, who is responsible for drawing customers to brothels. (E.g. My uncle has a Doll problem. He never comes home without visiting the Dollhouse.)

Dollhouse: A common slang term for a brothel. Comprised of 'Dolls,' or prostitutes, a Dollhouse will also have copious amounts of cheap alcohol, making them the antithesis of polite society. (E.g. The interior of the Dollhouse was smoky, with each Doll striking lewd poses against the wall.)

\---

Alfred's reflection stared back at him from his mirror, as his hand traced eyeliner over his top lid. He curled the pencil with his fingers and framed his eyes perfectly. He batted his eyelashes over his mascara brush and pressed his lipstick to his upper lip. He turned his head, to catch the slight shadow over his eyelids, and batted his eyelashes again to check for clumps in the mirror.

Behind him, his mother rummaged through his closet, and Alfred wondered idly who his father had invited to dinner. Their guest must, of course, be here to court Alfred, or else his mother would let him wear something he picked out. Instead, she disparaged each of his dresses, in turn, finding a flaw in each of them. This one was too tight, that one was too plain, this one's neckline was positively plunging. On Alfred's bed sat every dress he'd ever worn outside, or inside, and even the dresses he'd only worn in front of his damned bodyguard. 

"Alfred," his mother called, "come here."

Alfred rose from his vanity table and joined his mother in front of his closet.

His mother pulled him in front of her and fitted his corset over his slip. As she laced the back of the corset, he stared at the dresses left in his closet. None of them were the sort of thing he could wear during the evening, which either meant that his father had found his favored candidate or Alfred would have to go shopping the next day. 

Perhaps both, he thought to himself, as his mother fixed one of his new necklaces across his collarbone. Alfred wondered again who his father had invited to dinner, and considered asking his mother. She tapped him on the shoulder, but he found he didn't care enough to ask.

"Here we are." His mother held his hand as he stepped into the skirt of his dress. Her fingers quickly laced up the backing, and he thought to himself that whoever was coming to dinner must have had more money than Jupiter because the white dress his mother had chosen was the most expensive thing he owned.

Alfred's mother stepped out from behind him, and handed him his high heels, before smoothing the non-existent wrinkles in his skirt. He slid his foot into one shoe, and his mother held out a hand for him to steady himself. Alfred stepped into his other high heel and turned to his mother.

"Now, recite. When your father introduces you to Mr. Braginski, you will smile and say...?" His mother prompted.

"What a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Braginski." Alfred paused a second, to imitate a conversation, then said, "Please, call me Alfred." Another artificial pause. "Would you like to accompany me into the dining room?"

His mother gave him a slight smile and nodded, before she smoothed her own dress, and strode from the room. Alfred waited a moment, until he could no longer hear the clack of her heels upon the marble, then opened his door. His own high heels tapped out a rhythm to the swish of his skirts, that stopped momentarily when he pulled up his skirts so that he wouldn't trip on the stairs.

Alfred kept his hand on the railing, as his whole body glided down the staircase with a practiced grace. It was every alpha's dream, his mother had told him, to watch an omega come down a staircase, like in the pictures. 

"They all want to walk to the bottom of the stairs, and take you in their arms." She had told him. 'Take you in their arms and ravish you on the floor', remained unspoken. Alfred wasn't stupid; he knew all about alphas, and the things they wanted to do to omegas. He wasn't stupid; if Alfred wanted to keep his pretty dresses, his silky, golden hair, and his young, lovely skin, he needed to get married.

That was the choice: be raped by one alpha, and have them fling their money at your feet, or be raped by fifty, and be tossed into a ditch when you got too old. Alfred had seen it happen, time and time again. His own sister, Alina, a pretty beta girl, had thought to marry a poor alpha from the Harbour. Alfred's father had sold her to a dollhouse for half her beta price, and never allowed his family to speak of her again.

Which was why Alfred allowed himself to be paraded in front of every alpha who wanted to fuck him: so that they couldn't fuck him.

His father's latest prized stallion looked more like a shark than a horse. Braginski was taller than his father, with carefully parted blonde hair, and strange blue eyes. His eyes watched Alfred with all the tender care of a wolf as it watched its prey. When Alfred made his way to the bottom of the staircase, Braginski's lips curled up, into a smile that Alfred imagined was supposed to come across as charming. 

Alfred could practically see the dollar signs in his father's eyes as he watched Braginski, who watched Alfred. As he reached the bottom of the staircase, his mother gave Alfred the slightest nod of her head, and his father took his hand briefly before he let go. His brother Matthew was conspicuously absent, although that wasn't particularly unusual.

Braginski gave Alfred his wolf's smile again. "And you must be Ms. Kirkland. A pleasure." The way that he kissed Alfred's hand made him shiver and Braginski looked suddenly as if he would fuck him right there on the floor if his father weren't there.

Hell, with the cologne he was wearing, Alfred's father might let him do it, if Braginski paid him enough. Braginski probably bled money, all over his custom blend suits, and his freshly polished shoes.

"Alfred, please, Mr. Braginski." Alfred looked up at him through his eyelashes, and smiled with his pretty white teeth, even though he needed his father to choose someone other than Braginski.

Braginski smiled at him again, and said, "Ivan."

Alfred wished abruptly for his brother, who would do something stupid and angry right now, and make Braginski want to leave. "Mr. Bragin- Ivan," Alfred batted his eyes, and it was Braginski's turn to shudder, "won't you please escort me to the dining room?"

Braginski extended his arm, and Alfred couldn't help but think that under his suit, Braginski was very muscular. Of course he was muscular, Alfred's father had picked him out. 

Senator Arthur Kirkland liked alphas who commanded attention, and subsequently, commanded money transfers, which meant that most of Alfred's suitors were tall, muscular, and could break him in half. Even in his high heels, Braginski towered over Alfred, and he could tell that Braginski enjoyed it immensely.

His mother had singularly outdone herself with the dining room, which had been set with her finest china, which were all inlaid with gold, and no less than three centerpieces. 

Braginski pulled out Alfred's chair for him, and as he pushed it back in, his fingers brushed Alfred's side. Not enough for his father to notice, just enough for him to feel the pressure of Braginski's fingers against his chest.

Alfred's father took his seat at the head of the table, and Alfred pretended not to notice when his mother shot a furtive glance at the chair next to his father. Braginski must have noticed, because his eyes flicked towards the chair, but he stayed silent.

Alfred's mother crooked her fingers to summon the servants that had hovered by the doorway, and they brought in the dinner platters as Alfred's father asked Braginski, "How is your father these days?"

"Still strong as an ox," Braginski replied. "It seems she never stops working. Even on Sundays."

Alfred's father laughed as though Braginski had told a wonderful joke, and Alfred wondered what kind of money Braginski came from.

"Alfred, your father tells me that you work with orphans. What is that like?" Braginski asked, as a servant placed a soup bowl in front of him.

Alfred opened his mouth to give his much-recited answer, when the dining room doors banged open, to reveal his brother Matthew, who was panting, and disheveled.

Alfred could see the aneurysm his father was about to have, and he sent his brother a pleading look, as he silently begged him not to start a fight right now. With Alfred's luck, his father would be so embarrassed, he'd make Alfred marry Braginski the very next day, laws be damned.

"I'm sorry, Father. I had a very important call, and it took much longer than I thought it would." Matthew decided to behave, and Alfred blessed every god he could think of for his brother's sudden rational streak.

Alfred's father took a breath, and smiled. "It's quite alright, Matthew. Braginski," their fathers turned to the alpha across the table, "this is my older son, Matthew. Matthew, Braginski." 

Matthew looked like their father had force fed him a lemon, but he nodded and shook Braginski's hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Braginski."

Braginski smiled his "charming" smile, but the look in his eyes made it look like he was crushing Matthew with his shoe, rather than shaking his hand. "Of course."

Matthew looked ready to balk at that look, but Alfred sent him another pleading look, and he kept his mouth shut. Matthew might have been a reckless idiot, but he had a soft spot a mile wide when it came to Alfred.

"What were you just talking about, Alfred?" Alfred's mother prompted him.

"I was just telling Ivan about the children." Alfred smiled at Braginski and saw as his mother nodded, out of the corner of his eye. "They really are darling. Just the other day, one of the little beta girls, Julia, she asked me why I didn't have my own children. When I told her it is because I'm not married yet, she told me that she hoped my father found a Prince to court me, because I was the prettiest omega she had ever seen."

Braginski smiled back at him, and said, "Children are so wise, aren't they? I doubt she has seen more than a half-dozen grown omegas, yet she recognizes that she has already met the most beautiful omega in the province."

Alfred thought of his mother catching him eating before his presentation ceremony, and his father's eyes lit up when Alfred blushed, right on cue. 

"Thank you." Alfred averted his eyes, and his brother made a sharp coughing noise.

His mother glared at Matthew, and he angrily stabbed a piece of steak with his fork. 

"Mama, this is lovely. " He shot another look at his brother, and Braginski looked like he would rather eat Alfred, rather than the piece of meat on his plate.

His mother gave him another little nod and crooked her fingers again. The servants pulled the empty platters off of the table, and then returned to the kitchen.

"Ivan," Alfred's father said, with too much familiarity, "how are your sisters? I was shocked to hear your elder sister won't become the Patriarch of your family."

"Ah, that's Katya for you. Ever since she married her little Polish bride, she can't stand to even hear of the business." Braginski lifted his glass of wine to his mouth before he spoke again. "Natasha, however, is wonderful. She just came back from finishing school, and it's already as though someone has given my father back that... 'spark' she's been missing."

"How old is Natalia now? She was only seven, the last time I saw her." His father asked.

"She just turned fourteen." Braginski smiled, the way Alfred's father smiled, as if he could see the stacks of bills he would trade his little sister for. Alfred wondered if that was why Braginski was so comfortable; perhaps any money he spent on Alfred would come right back into his pocket.

"She'll be presenting soon, then, won't she? Alfred, you should go to her presentation ceremony." His father said, as if Alfred had any choice in the matter.

"Of course, Father." Alfred nodded before he turned back to Braginski.

-

After dinner, Alfred's father steered Braginski into his office, without even offering him a dessert wine. Without a proper shopping trip, and a week or more of gossip and strange hints about the courtship meeting to other alphas, this dinner had been a gamble. Alfred had played his part perfectly, though, and now, his father was going to cash his chips.

For a moment, after his father had left, the dining room was deathly silent. Then, Alfred's brother rose from his seat, dropped his napkin onto the table, and strode from the room.

His mother didn't say a word, just snapped her fingers for the slaves to take away the remains of dinner. Alfred, however, couldn't tear his eyes away from Matthew's napkin. The napkin, which had once been the same shade as Alfred's dress, had fallen into his wine glass and stained red.

His mother ‘tsk-ed,’ then pulled the napkin away before it could stain the tablecloth. “If only I had raised two children like you, Alfred. The nerve of that boy…” She trailed off, and sharply handed the napkin to one of the slaves. “See if it can be fixed. If not, throw it away.”


End file.
